


Another Ending For Us

by leche_flan



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Alm and Lucina friendship!!, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Heavy Angst, Multi, might add other characters as we go on, really sad alm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-03-26 18:12:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19011160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leche_flan/pseuds/leche_flan
Summary: Summoned into another world alongside many other heroes and legends, Alm, already the king of Valentia, is stuck in Askr as the sole hero from his homeland. Fascinated with the curious concept of summoning heroes from other worlds and time, he wonders if there is a chance that he can see his friends again. He also cannot help wondering about Berkut. If Alm ever gets to see him again, alive and well, what would he tell him? Would he be able to make up for their lost time as family?





	1. A Memory of Him (Prologue)

Alm once again found himself standing inside the one place that continues to entice unpleasant memories into his mind—the Altar of Duma. The concrete beige walls were tinted with an intense glaring orange from the bonfire that lit the room. The fire from the hearth continued to blaze and crackle so loudly as if it were the only sound in the chamber. It enveloped Alm not with warmth but with a grasp of tension. As if there was something waiting to break the uncomfortable monotony he was enclosed in. Alm stood there, fixed in a hazy sensation as the ghastly cold touch of metal armor clouded his senses. It embraced and weighed down on his body, heavy black gauntlets loosely gripping at his sides.

Alm, slowly waking up from his daze, slowly started to realize what was before him. Or who, rather. The solid obsidian armor that lost its luster to scratches and damage from weapons and magic, the ominous-looking lance that sat on the brick ground, the tiara that circled the head of ebony black hair draping onto the sharp features of a rather handsome face. Alm knew this armor, this face. For he has crossed blades with this man countless times already. Yet, he knew something was different. The head that was held high beaming with confidence now sat limp against Alm’s shoulders. The body once bursting with strength now lay lifelessly onto Alm’s chest. Instead of the usual intimidating scowl, a gentle smile was formed on Berkut’s lips.

Fully realizing the scenario, a devastated scream released itself from the depths of Alm’s throat. He almost lost grip of the body that lies onto him. Before Berkut completely fell, Alm tightly cradled him as he began to lose strength in his knees and ultimately collapse onto the ground. Once again, he glanced at his cousin’s face. It was very different from what he used to see on the battlefield. He looked contented. Fulfilled.

“This is so unfair,” Alm croaked, trying to fight back against the tears that seemed to push their way out of his eyes. Alm could not squeeze out any more words out of his mouth. Simply looking at Berkut’s lifeless yet serene face was enough to let an overwhelming amount of tears trickle down Alm’s face. As he gently caressed his cousin’s face, a crimson shade oozed out of his fingers. Puzzled, he took a better look at his gloved hand. It was dripping. Dripping with blood. With sudden distress taking over his emotions, Alm’s breathing weighed heavier and heavier until his vision completely panned to black.

***

The deafening pitter-patter of the rain and booming of the thunder greeted Alm as he jolted awake from his sleep. His heart was racing with such speed as if it were going to burst out of his chest. His throat ran dry for he felt as if there was a desert inside him, making it excruciating to speak. He shifted his gaze from the diluted darkness of the room onto the direction of the window to the right of his bed. Anna said that it has the best view from there and that the room itself is one of the best in the castle’s barracks—very fitting for a king. However, with this storm ravaging the garden, it simply looked like a very forlorn scenery.

Despite the water droplets littering the glass windowpane, Alm could somehow make sense of what he was seeing. The trees started swaying as if they were dancers bowing down and swinging to the whims of the strong breeze. The bright tiger lilies were forcibly made to bow down by the overwhelming pressure of the rain as the grim grey sky overlooked, wailing. Water flooded the entire landscape for Alm can see only the tips of the tallest grass stalks protrude out of the muddy waters. Even though a botched scenery was unfolding before him, for some reason, the banging and clanging of the rain against the steel matted roof calmed him down. Even the view was comforting for him. As long as it was not that damned altar, Alm knew he was going to feel all right.

It was the first time in years that Alm had that dream again. Just when he believed he already moved on from _that_. He did not want to see that again—that painful memory expounded by swirling morbid thoughts that haunted his mind ever since he became king. Before, it almost set his mind into a spiral down to complete insanity. It came to him as if it forcibly tore open his old wounds. Although healed, they still stung as if they were good as fresh and dripping with blood.

It stayed a riddle to Alm as to why, for the first time in two years after ascending to the throne, that nightmare had resurfaced again. It was like a corpse that emerged from the depths of his mind all of a sudden, reanimating itself, and clawing at Alm’s grasp on sanity then dragging him to the abyss. Alm had an unsettling feeling about what he saw. Such haunting dreams came to him on a seldom basis, since they only come as an omen—for an impeding misfortune.

Once again, Alm saw the blood stain his trembling hands right after he killed the vile man who turned out to be his cousin—his only family left. He knew he did not want to do it. Yet, he did it against his will. He did not know any other option than to fight. After all, Alm was raised and trained to turn out just like that. To fight for what he thinks is right without hesitation. That way, he would surely be successful in having his way with what he so desires.

Or so Alm believed.

At that moment, Alm felt that what he was doing was the right thing. He wanted to free Berkut and Rinea’s souls from Duma’s clutches. Berkut, especially. He just learned the truth about his family right after killing his father. Distraught as he was, he managed to cling on to the hope that there is still a chance for him to be with his family. Berkut is still alive, after all. He can still be saved and they can be together as a family, somehow. The only way, though, is to fight him until Duma’s strength leaves his body. After that, everything would turn out just fine. Berkut would tell him everything about Rudolf. Alm could go on many days listening to stories about him as a king, a master, and of course, as a father. There would be a happy ending just like in the heroic tales and legends Mycen read to him as a child. It was such a simple desire but that vision was enough to keep Alm fighting on his feet.

However, as if fate were playing a twisted game on him, that battle happened to be the last time Alm ever caught a glimpse of his remaining family alive. If that was not even enough, with his own hands, Alm himself drew the life from the last person who remained of his family. As quickly as he discovered the truth about his real family, it was gone.

He lifted his fingers to his chest to find the necklace where Berkut’s onyx ring hung. It was the last memento he held of his cousin—an unused engagement ring. It has a stone cold touch to it. Yet, it reminded Alm of home and the family he never had. With the sense of calm washing over him, his mind cleared and he finally began picking himself up from the soft and warm embrace of the silken sheets.

There was no better way to bury thoughts than with rigorous training. It was perfect. Covering up emotional pain with intense body pain. The plan sounded good to Alm. But first, he thought of tending to his parched throat by grabbing a glass or two of fresh water.

***

The training room was dark and musty, as if unused for quite a while. It was the only one left unoccupied by other vigorously training heroes. The other training rooms were bursting with warriors from other worlds working out and sparring with one another, along with some clerics and troubadours on standby for the instance when someone gets hurt. Alm did not know that he already woke up that late. The sky was dim all the same as if it were wee hours in the morning. That dream really must have done a number on him.

There was no sign of daylight outside the training chamber for the storm continued to rage on and attempt to ravish the castle grounds. As the scent of sweat wafted in the other rooms, this one room in particular managed to stick dust up Alm’s nostrils. Maybe it was not properly maintained.

Kiran had apologized to him prior, though. “I’m sorry, Alm. It’s just that it’s the first time I’ve used so much orbs that I didn’t realize that the barracks must have been too crowded. We’ll just have you train for now in one of the old training rooms.”

“They really didn’t stop until you appeared from the Breidablik,” Sharena chimed in, giggling.

“Yeah, that’s true. I’m sorry, Alm.”

“Don’t worry about it! It’s not like some dust will get in the way of my training.” Alm reassured the summoner.

He was glad anyways, since the room did trigger some delightful memories. Alm felt as if he were exploring a dank dungeon or cave again with his friends during his travels to Rigel. But now, it is completely different since he is completely alone. Standing by himself, in the dimly lit, orange-tinted room.

_Oh no, there it is again._

Muttering a curse under his breath for his recent emotional sensitivity, Alm hastily laid down the lamp that sat on the shelf near the sack of build-it-your-own training dummies. He opened the sack and started gathering the hay in a bundle then securing it with straw. Building the dummy reminded him of how he used to do it with his friends back in Ram Village whenever they trained.

They would go into one of the barns to gather excess hay. They would pick up some firm twigs or when unfortunate, Gray would climb a tree to cut some off with a bolo knife. Tobin would then scold him from the ground for pulling off such stunts, only to have an orange fall onto his head directly after. Faye was the most skilled at building these training dummies. Her impeccable handwork never fails to make the dummies as sturdy as possible for it was rare for Alm and the others to break it apart with just a couple of hits. Kliff, on the other hand, was a completely different case. As a student who preferred the use of magic, he refused to use training dummies aside from times when he had to practice his accuracy since he believed that it would be a waste of materials. One time, he conceded to Alm’s continuous (and somewhat annoying) begging to use one. Kliff, then completely burned it down beyond repair. He told Alm and the others a deadpan “Hey, I told you so.”

Such memories brought a smile to Alm’s face and a giggle out of his grin, brightening his mood and pumping him up for training. The next time Kiran summons, Alm would have to pray that they summon a friend of him. His friends and maybe, Celica, too, if Kiran got lucky again. He misses her a lot, too. Letting his thoughts wander to the nostalgic part of his mind, he could not help himself to avoid thinking about _him_ as well.

The next summoning session, would _that person_ come? He may not exactly be a hero but Alm has observed villainous personalities from other worlds wander around in the Askran castle. Maybe one day, Berkut would be here, too. Alm had so much to ask and apologize for him. There were so many things he wanted Berkut to tell him. About their country, his uncle as a father, and himself. If things were slightly different, he solemnly wished for them to be friends and even greater, family. Now that a miraculous chance is laid out to him in this brand new yet mysterious world, would it hurt for him to be a little hopeful and selfish?

Shying himself away from these thoughts, Alm shook his head and started thinking about his training regimen. Ever since he stepped up to the throne, his days have been divided into paperwork, diplomacy meetings, council meetings, and physical training. Before, it was just the latter. Now that he is in Askr, not as a king but a hero, Alm felt as if he could return to his former spryness as a warrior by training rigorously as he did a way back.

With multiple tight knots to finish off wrapping up the base, just like how Faye taught him, Alm was done setting up the training dummy. He carefully propped it up against the wall, cautious so that it will not topple over. It was quite wobbly but he felt proud of his work. He felt that wherever Faye is now, she would have been nodding in approval.

 _Gently, gently_ , he thought.

“Oh, hello there,” he heard a woman’s deep voice from behind him. Startled, Alm accidentally lost his grip on the training dummy he was trying to prop up. It crashed against the floorboards, lopping its sack covered head off in the process.

“Gods, I’m a mess,” he muttered to himself, letting out a half-hearted laugh.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” The girl walked up to him, reaching out a hand to help him up. Her striking long cobalt blue hair draped across her broad shoulders to her waist. It reminded him of the king from the other continent. _Mario, was it_ , he thought to himself, searching for the correct name down in memory lane. Looking at her, Alm noticed something in her left eye. He wondered if it was some sort of oddly patterned birthmark. It gave off a sky blue glow, contrasting with the mellow orange that filled the room’s walls. Something was also different from her approach. Her posture. It had a regal feel to it. Alm figured that she had the same aura as Celica. She was not like the other heroes. A queen or a princess, perhaps?

“Is something the matter?” The girl asked. Now that he stood up, he found out that she was rather short, since her head only reached up to his chin.

“Ah, n-no. Thank you for helping me up…?” Alm gave a confused look. Oh right, he remembered, he did not know the name of this girl.

“Oh, right! I almost forgot to introduce myself. I am Lucina of the Halidom of Ylisse. Descendant of the Hero-King Marth and daughter of the Ylissean Exalt Chrom.”

 _I knew it. I knew that hair was familiar_ , Alm thought, proud of his memory. _So she is from the future_.

“It’s good to meet you, Lucina. I am Albein Alm Rudolf II but I mostly go by A—”

“No way, Saint-King Alm?” The girl interjected, her voice slightly cracked and her eyes glinted.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you! B-but you’re so young! I’ve only seen you bearded and grizzled in our textbooks! Ah—oh no, please pardon my rudeness,” she was tripping in her own words, not being able to mold her thoughts into one coherent sentence.

“No, don’t worry about it! It’s alright! I’m actually surprised that you know me.”

“Of course! You’re the legend, Saint-King Alm! I have heard tales and stories from all over about you and your heroic feats!” she excitedly cheered.

“H-heroic feats..?” Alm tilted his head in confusion. The word “legend” resounded in his head. What does “legend” mean, for one? Something far away, deep in history that was epic and world-shaking. He did not really think of himself as such a legend at his age. He is only nineteen for Mila’s sake! It has been just a couple of years ever since he ascended to the throne.

Alm is still young and unexperienced in the field of governance and politics. There were many instances when he solemnly wished for a political advisor who was well-versed and educated in the political. Someone who has studied all their life on the matter, seeing as how Alm had infantile knowledge. Someone similar to _him._ Maybe if he had been there by his side, he wondered, could he had been a greater legend in Lucina’s stories from the future? However, perhaps, the Alm from the future must have become a wise and widely respected leader for him to go down on history as a legend revered by a princess.

“I guess that’s flattering? Well, I must say, how do you explain it? The me that you’ve heard about is not the me right now. He’s probably the me from the distant future. Did I explain that right?”

No reply. Lucina simply blinked, as if asking for Alm to continue elaborating.

“Anyways, I think that I’m still far from what you call ‘legendary’. You can say that I’m still a work in progress!” he joked with a half-hearted nervous laugh.

“I see,” Lucina nodded her head in understanding. “I’m sorry if I sounded too rowdy or imposing on you.”

“No, it’s no problem, Lucina! Please lift your head up. I’m actually thankful that you mentioned it. I think offering me an insight of what I will become in the future can really motivate me to do my best as the king of Valentia!”

“R-really? Then I’m glad… Oh, and King Alm? If it’s alright, may I ask a favor of you?”

“If it’s something I can do, then I’ll be glad to help!”

“Please spar with me,” Her deep blue eyes twinkled against the orange light emanating from the lamp. The excitement from Lucina’s voice replaced the constricting tension that previously enveloped the room.

 _This is not so bad_ , he thought. At least he would not need to bother reassembling the broken dummy again. Plus, sparring with Marth’s granddaughter would probably make a great practice.

“Sure!” Alm accepted. “Only in one condition,”

“Yes?”

“Just call me ‘Alm’. It’s what my friends call me.”

“F-friend—yes, Ki—I mean Alm! Thank you!” She clasped his hands. “I will do my best to be a worthy sparring partner!”

A wave of excitement coursed through Alm’s body, even though it was only enough for him to unconsciously fashion a genuine smile. At least for that moment, he knew, his thoughts will no longer be preoccupied by the ghost stalking in the nooks and crannies of his disturbed mind. Yet, the time it is over, he knew he had to look at it again. He dreaded it for the apparition, as he expects, will once again cling onto his shoulder and whisper into his ears, taunting him. But now, Alm is just glad that he finally had the luxury to breathe for the day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first fanfic in this account! It's gonna get reaaaaallyyyy heavy and painful although there will be some fluff along the way~  
> It's also a little canon compliant but there will be some twists to it that I'm very much looking forward to writing!! I will do my best to update on a weekly basis so please stay tuned :)


	2. Towards a New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alm steels his gut to make a request to Kiran.

The foul weather settled down from the usual howling winds and billowing thunderstorm clouds to slightly aggressive breezes only strong enough to sway some plants in the garden into a single direction. The boisterous rampaging of the rain turned into a moderate and slightly entertaining tap dance of water droplets on the roofs. It has gone a little more pleasant ever since the weeks before. Yet, as if a bitter aftertaste in the mouth, the storm also left unsettling damages to the castle grounds. The gardens were ravaged while the outdoor training grounds were eroded.

To remedy the damages, Kiran, Alfonse, and Sharena kindly asked everyone in the castle for help with cleaning up the garden and outdoor training grounds as the weather started to lighten up. Since he has taken a liking to tending to of plants, Alm volunteered himself for the duty of restoring the garden. He liked how the atmosphere in that area felt before the storm hit Askr. It reminded him of Ram Village when times were much simpler.

He would run along the flower fields with Celica, without a care in the world. They would make flower crowns for each other and the other kids, too. Celica’s best crafted flower crowns were reserved for Faye, since she had always been very fond of the cute blonde girl in pigtails. Alm admitted that he felt a little jealous back then but now that he looks back at it, he could not help but let out a small giggle.

Alm carefully tended to the flowers in the garden, meticulously snipping away every damaged root and stem so that it can regenerate itself into a better condition. It was also Celica who taught him how to do it. Probably one of the factors why they clicked with each other so well is their shared love for gardening. Tending to a form of life and seeing its way through its growth up to its end is something both of them found very interesting. When free of time, Alm and Celica would visit their outdoor garden and spend the time tending to their plants. With such fond memories flooding into his mind, Alm’s longing for Celica’s presence came to grow.

“I see you’re fond of flowers, too.” Lucina crept up behind Alm, startling him.

“Lucina!” Alm yelped. “Y-you surprised me.”

“Oh, sorry,” she gave a small bow in apology. “You’re very concentrated in your work, too. I’m sorry if I distracted you.”

“No, it’s alright! Don’t worry about it. What brings you here, though?”

“Actually, I’m here to help you out with chores,” Lucina proudly announced, showing off her plain and slightly rugged overalls. “I even brought along a friend with me. If you don’t mind, that is.”

“I sure don’t! I’d like to meet your friend, too. But where are the—” Alm asked, looking up from his arrows.

“Over here.” A redhead clad in a long white dress shirt interrupted, emerging from behind Lucina. Her face had an unpleasant expression in it, as if she was dissatisfied with everything in general. Her brightly colored hair reminded Alm of Celica, despite the expressions on their faces being very different from each other.

“Alm, she’s Sev—I mean Selena, my friend. And Selena, this is Alm. He’s the Saint-King we used to read about in our history books! See, a legend in the flesh!” Lucina intervened, exhilarated. She glanced at Alm’s mildly embarrassed expression and added, “But you can call him Alm!”

“What, really?” Selena acted only slightly surprised. She raised an eyebrow at Alm, leaning in closely as if inspecting every detail of his demeanor. “Huh, does he seem like the real deal.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Selena,” Alm lousily wiped his hand greased with fertilizer onto his pants and held it out. “Thanks for coming to help!”

“Yeah, whatever,” she simply rolled her eyes and grimaced at Alm’s stretched out hand, dripping with leftover foul-odor fertilizer.

“Selena!” Lucina nagged.

“Fine, fine,” she conceded. “Same here, Alm.” She finally shook hands with him.

“Sorry, Alm. Selena’s just a little grouchy the first time but when you get to know her better, she’s actually really nice.” Lucina said. “She’s also the one who taught me how to use the bow!”

“Hmph! Y-you talk way too highly of me, Lucina…” Selena averted her gaze from Alm and onto the ground, hiding what seemed like a small grin as her cheeks starting to flush into a bright rosy pink. “Anyways! Let’s just get to work! Let’s get those shovels, Lucina!”

Meeting Selena reminded Alm of the first time he met Clair, his impeccably graceful Valkyrie friend back in Valentia. He thought that she was a tad insufferable at the beginning but as he started talking to her more, he grew to realize how down to earth she really is. Additionally, she proved that she definitely does not play around with a lance. Her skills with the lance easily made Alm’s respect for her hit up a notch. Talking with Selena somewhat felt like talking with Clair for the first time again.

Alm missed her, too. Because of his constricting schedule, he barely had the chance to talk with her. Becoming the commander of the Pegasus knights of the kingdom also slimmed her opportunities to lock Alm into a conversation with tea. However, when the two find a common free time, even for just a short while as fifteen minutes, they decide to sit by the garden and have a cup of Clair’s favorite rose tea while they laughingly complain to each other about their tiresome duties and responsibilities. Alm also does miss sharing a cup of tea with his best friend.

“What’s your favorite flower, Alm?” Lucina asked, carefully digging up a pile of dislocated soil.

Alm paused for a short while, thinking to himself. “I don’t think I have any preferences. I think that every flower is beautiful and I like them because they remind me of home,” he finally answered.

“Even the totally smelly ones like the big red corpse flower?” Selena chimed in, wiping the sweat off her brows. “With, like, no redeeming qualities at all? That’s fine with you?”

“Corpse flower? What’s that?” Alm asked, the image of a small Terror growing out of vines appearing in his head. Such a grotesque thing probably does not exist, he tried to convince himself, erasing the image from his mind.

“It’s a flower that’s a parasite. Smells rotten and disgusting. A burden, really.” Selena squirmed just talking about it.

“Huh, what does it look like?”

“It’s really big and heavy, or so I heard. Bright red, just like a normal flower. Oh and get me that fertilizer, please.”

“Then I guess it looks good. It has redeeming qualities, after all.” Alm concluded, handing over the bag of fertilizer to Selena. “Flowers. They’re like people. Each one is distinct and unique from one another. I also believe that all people have redeeming qualities that makes each one of them worth of love.” For some reason, Alm felt a small emotional sensitivity take a hold of him as he was speaking. The topic seemed to have hit close to his heart, or so he felt.

“It’s a wonderful answer,” Lucina applauded. “It really showed that you have the heart of a ruler, Alm. Every leader should always believe in their subjects.”

“Yeah, it’s soooo ruler-like—cheesy.” Selena teased.

“Haha, I guess you could say that,” Alm thought about turning the question back at them. “What about you two? What flowers are your favorites?”

“I love white daisies the most,” Lucina said without batting an eye, as if she were prepared with an answer the whole time. “It symbolizes new beginnings. Every time I see it, it reminds me that there is hope in every misfortune. It has a very nice sentiment.”

“Yup, we got another cheesy one here. Does this run in the family of being a royal or what?” Selena commented.

“Oh, that reminds me. Selena’s favorite flower is a red tulip because it reminds her of someone special to her. Isn’t that right?” Lucina retorted, with a small grin across her face.

“Why, you!” Selena’s cheeks instantly flushed bright red as she started pinching Lucina’s cheeks, smearing them with fertilizer.

“Calm down, Selena! I merely jest!” Lucina said between laughter.

Alm himself could not help laughing along with the two younger girls. They really are kids, he thought to himself. It was a sight that really brought him a way back. It was just like watching Gray and Tobin teasing each other again. Though nostalgic, Alm found solace in the fact that he found people in Askr who were not so different from the people from home.

***

Alm laid down on his bed, awake. This time, the deafening clamors of the violent downpour were absent. The violent thunderclaps resounded in the sky no longer. There were no more blinding flashes of lightning to jolt his eyelids open. Beside his bed is his oil lamp, dimmed. Slivers of moonlight filtered by the gaps between the curtains found its way into the room, allowing a dim light slither its way in.

Alm shifted his glance from the ceiling onto his chest, where the cold ring hung by a lace. Despite the chillingly cold metal lying against his bare skin, it felt warm in his heart for it reminded him of a distant place he calls home. A distant person he wanted to call family. Alm stared at it longingly, as if hoping that if he looked at it enough, Berkut or his father would magically appear in the room. Likewise, the ring seemed to have spoken with him, beckoning him to wear it on his finger just so that he would feel like he was back home. It had a mystical effect to it that seemed to calm him down.

However, Alm found a loophole to it. He could not help wondering why it felt that way. Could it have been because there is loneliness borne from solitude seeping into his heart, he wondered. It seemed to eat at him ceaselessly, tearing his flesh from his bones. How could such a trivial item such as a ring feel like his home at a time like this, he thought. More importantly, how long can he hold on to it? The thoughts kept his eyes open, and his body awake despite how tired he felt.

Alm averted his gaze to the potted daisies Lucina gave him as a gift. It sat by the ledge below the window. The moonlight wonderfully illuminated each pristinely white petal.

“New beginnings, huh?” Alm mumbled. Would it be possible, in this place where an old friend may be summoned at one’s leisure? If Kiran could summon a friend from Valentia, it is possible that Alm and that person could do things they could never do since Alm had gotten a ton busier ever since he became king. The possibilities of some comrades being summoned flooded into his mind. Alm thought that if Kiran summoned Faye, he could ask her to teach him how to brew tea perfectly so that he could impress Clair or Celica the next time they share a cup of tea in the castle’s rooftop garden.

If Lukas gets summoned to Askr, Alm could get to know one of his most valued tacticians. Lukas was one of the first people who welcomed Alm into the army and yet, he did not get the chance to engage him into a chat. To ask where he is from, why he preferred the lance, and why he enlisted in the army. He always found Lukas to be an interesting person—warm yet shrouded with mystery. It was such a shame, he thought, that they did not exactly get to talk a lot about personal matters.

Alm also felt like he had a lot to make up to Kliff. He has vanished ever since the war ended and frankly, Alm had a very constricting feeling of guilt in his chest when he did not notice the signs. His unusual displays of slight affection towards his friends, especially Alm himself, and the fact that he gave Alm a copy of his notes about magic “just because Alm has been annoying him to teach him how to magic”. Alm wished he had bid him a goodbye more befitting for someone dear to him.

Finally, he has always desired a brand new beginning. One that he never had before. A beginning with his family. May it be his father or Berkut, he wanted to see them again. Now that there is an idealistic world where all of his fantasies can happen, would it be so selfish of him to wish that they would come there right away? With that certain fascination and wishful thinking in mind, Alm arms himself with an idea on how to pass the time after training with Lucina.

***

“Gawds, Alm! Fix your posture! Pull the arrow, don’t let it pull you!” Selena scolded as she held his shoulder in what felt like a death grip, despite her not wearing gauntlets.

“Ow! L-like this?”

“Better,” Selena commented. “Needs more work, though.”

“She’s such a strict teacher, isn’t she?” Lucina chimed in. “But she’s very amazing at it.”

“I can see that,” Alm laughs. “She’s much stricter than my friend, Tobin when teaching me.”

“Tobin? As in the knight? Wow, so he was the one who taught you archery,” Lucina said. “You’re very lucky to have him since it’s difficult to learn by yourself. Unless you have talent, that is.” She glanced over at Selena and flashed her a fond smile.

“Ahem!” Selena scoffed, her cheeks visibly flushing red. “I’m busy so don’t just go distracting me!”

She then turned to Alm. “You! Enough chitchat and release the arrow. You’ll see what I’m talking about.”

“Alright, here goes,” he locked on to the target board and instantaneously let go of the arrow.

In a split second, it hit the second circle right outside the bullseye.

“Woah,” Alm gasped. “It went on a straight line.”

“That’s a good shot,” Lucina applauded.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about.” Selena nodded in approval. “Just keep that up and maybe one day, you’ll be as good as me.” Selena grabbed the bow Alm was holding on to. She then picked up an arrow from the quiver and stretched it against the bowstring, her eyes locked onto the small red circle at the center. Without uttering a word, and in less than a second, the arrow was flying away at incredible speed. The next thing they knew, the arrow already found its place pierced exactly into the center of the bullseye.

Brief silence followed. Alm and Lucina’s jaws both dropped to the ground.

“Selena really knows her way with the bow, huh?” Alm turned to Lucina.

“She really does,” Lucina’s words dragged as if she were distracted. Her eyes were fixed on Selena, marveling her gracefulness combined with her ferocity as a warrior.

“I-I know,” Selena’s voice slightly cracked, her cheeks flushing into a rosy blush. “You two don’t need to say it!”

Lucina’s glances at Selena made Alm feel a sense of déjà vu. He felt it, simply looking at how Lucina looked at the redhead girl. It was just like this when he saw how Mathilda looked at Clive in the battlefield. As if she admired him with every fiber of her being, or as Python worded it, “with rainbows shooting out of their eyes”. Lucina did look like rainbows were about to jump out from her deep blue eyes. Alm thought that this is probably how he looked like whenever he looked at Celica. With nothing but butterflies in his stomach, he could only marvel at such beauty and grace presented in front of him. He missed that feeling.

***

For days, Alm seamlessly wondered why he was the only one from his homeland to be summoned to Askr. He appreciates that Kiran and the others treat him warmly due to the fact that there is no one else from Valentia that appeared from the Breidablik yet. Though, there is still a lingering hollowness that Alm felt in the depths of his heart. There was no one from his home to talk to or to relate to completely. Behind the smiles and cheerful disposition, Alm knew that something was missing.

That is probably the reason why he now found himself following every corner and turn leading to Kiran’s room. No, not probably. Surely, Alm’s loneliness has been taking quite the toll on his disposition. Alm has always had a good posture whenever he uses the bow. Tobin even reluctantly praised him for it before. Yet, just a while ago, his body felt a little inadequately energized, lacking stability or firmness. Selena also pointed out that there are already dark circles under his eyes that makes him look like something she called a “Risen”. With the way she sounded, it seemed as if it was a bad thing. It most likely is. Now, he found himself, wanting to ask Kiran a favor, selfish and desperate it may sound. That was as exactly as he planned from the night before. He hoped that it would also go exactly as planned.

As he finally reached the door to Kiran’s room, Alm realized that he did not really prepare something to tell Kiran. Something that would ease the summoner into realizing that he would want to request summoning him a friend from his homeland. Nevertheless, Alm, for the most part of his life, was not exactly prepared for things other than combat. It was only recently when he rose up to the throne when he properly learned lessons of battle tactics, speech formulation, and such. Other than that, well, was it not for the tacticians in his troop like Lukas and Kliff (though he was just learning, Alm admires his talent), he would have just winged pretty much everything. Just like right now. There is no Lukas nor Kliff in sight so there he stood, in front of Kiran’s bedroom door, unequipped with the right words. Even so, Alm did remember that some of the things he simply winged did turn out just right. And so, he knocked on the door as he steeled his gut.

“Yes? Who is it?” Kiran answered from behind the door.

“It’s me, Alm,” he tried to coat his nervousness. That is what Alm is also good at, anyways—hiding his emotions with a façade of happiness.

“Oh, please do come in!”

Alm let himself into the room. It was his first time letting himself into the summoner’s personal bedchamber. Gods, did he not know it was _this_ messy. The first thing he noticed were the tall stacks of books towering on the seemingly small desk, which he assumed was a study table. There was also a crate right under the table, labelled with a messy handwriting saying “orbs”. He fixed his gaze on the container for a while, knowing that it holds the key to what he wants.

It was also Alm’s first time seeing Kiran without their cloak on. They were wiping off some ink or paint from their shirt (only for even more of it to smudge) when he walked into the room. Their short black hair was strangely disheveled, as if a bird has nested in there prior. There were also distinct dark circles under Kiran’s eyes.

“Sorry for my appearance, Alm. I’m just a bit stressed out.” They ask in a welcoming tone while patting down their hair back to its kempt state.

“W-what? Are you alright? You look like you haven’t slept in days,” Alm asked, concerned.

“It’s all good. I’m just thinking up battle strategies so we can earn lots more rewards the next time we go on missions,” Kiran explained. “You, too, don’t look like you sleep much.” They pointed at Alm’s eye bags.

“Well, you're not wrong.”

“You should rest more, you know.” Kiran said, flicking his forehead. “You work yourself out during the day and you don’t even seem to take a break.”

“Hey! You should tell that to yourself, too.”

“Hm, touché.” Kiran fixed their sleeve. “Anyways, what brings you here, Alm?”

“Well, I’m very fascinated with your summoning ability and I was wondering—”

“If you could watch me summon? Or summon a friend for you?”

“H-how did you know?”

“Many heroes have asked me before. Though, summoning for you would be difficult since I don’t really have an idea who will come out of the Breidablik. All I know is that it’s a hero. It's always been like that.”

“Though, is it fine with you?”

“I don’t usually mind, Alm but right now is a bit…” Kiran averted their gaze to the floor.

“Ah, it’s alright if you don’t want to,” Alm said. “I-I don’t want to impose.” That was it. Kiran was not willing to summon right now. He felt rejected of the immediate opportunity to reunite with his friends. He swallowed the urge to cry and put it at the back of his throat. Yet, he was afraid that if he spoke any more, he would lose control of his tears. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s this.” Kiran grabbed the crate under their desk and pushed its lid off, revealing a completely empty container.

“Oh,” Alm’s gut felt more hollow. He was told how difficult it was to gather orbs and judging from this, it may take a long while before someone he knows finally gets to be summoned into Askr.

“Though, there are some other ways to recruit heroes,”

“Other ways?” Alm croaked.

“Yep. Like Grand Hero Battles and Tempest Trials. In Tempest Trials, if we go into battle enough times, some heroes will come to our aid as a reward. With Grand Hero Battles, however, we fight someone in order to get them into our army. It’s like earning their respect or something. There is a new hero every season, too. And sometimes, they return to be battled aga—” They explained.

“Oh!” Kiran’s eyes widened as if they just remembered something. They looked wired more than ever and Alm felt a little sorry for them. He wondered how many stamina potions Kiran had drunk. Alm wished that the summoner would take more time to rest. Well, look who's talking, anyways.

“Yes?”

“I just remembered! There is a Grand Hero Battle available to us right now! Right, right! I haven’t thought of that. Gosh, I really feel like I’m getting more and more absentminded nowadays!”

“So that means I can see you bring a hero from another world into our army?” Alm’s eyes lit up, rekindled with hope. He wished the hero is someone from his world so he will finally have someone he knows prior to talk with. Whoever it was, as long as that person is from Valentia, Alm knew that he would be very much content. He felt like he could not contain the excitement in his chest, just thinking about it.

“Absolutely! You can even come with the team,” Kiran suggested.

“Really? When shall we head out? Who's this person we're recruiting?” Alm felt a rush in his body. Gods, let it be someone he knows. Gods, let it be someone he knows. Contrary to the summoning guidelines with Breidablik, this one is a surefire way to recruit someone they really intend to get. Alm was incredibly excited.

“Right now, if you want!” Kiran excitedly chirped. “Let me just get my stuff ready.”

“And the hero? Hmmm, Bar… Bruuu… was it..? Bark? No, no… it’s a very unique name. It’s…” Kiran paused. “Ah, Berkut! Right, that guy! Black hair, bowl cut, menacing eyes! That one! Do you know him?”

“Berkut, you say…”

It echoed into Alm’s ears, as if it had to repeat itself countless times just for him to understand it. He will be able to see Berkut again. Alive and well. It was not a dream anymore. This was very real. And it felt very... Alm did not know how to explain it. He just felt like the world stopped just for him. Though it stopped, he felt like his surroundings were rotating, trapping him in a dizzying haze. His hands were trembling, unable to move from place. Alm’s heart was beating so fast in his chest, as if it was a wild beast fighting its way out of its flesh cage. He was stuck on the thin line between dream and reality. One wherein he could not distinguish one from the other. It felt very real, however. As he jumped back into reality, he felt a hot sensation trickling down his cheeks. Like an unexpected oasis in a desert, tears miraculously found its way back to Alm's face. This time, instead of crippling despair, it was borne out of utmost joy he has never experienced before. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took waaaay longer than expected,, there's been so much going on at school for our graduation so the next chapter may be late sowwyyy ;-;


	3. To Be There For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that update schedules have been very wonky ;-; There's just too much stuff going on in uni aaaaa but it's good that it's all over for now ahahaha  
> Here's a short extra chapter centered around Kiran. I'll do my best to upload a new one by the end of the week, though! Thank you for reading!!

Despite Kiran suggesting that Alm should stay back in the castle since he did not look like he was in tiptop condition, the former reluctantly agreed when the latter would not stop insisting that he was perfectly alright. When Kiran saw tears flooding down from Alm’s face the moment they mentioned who the Grand Hero Battle recruitment reward was, they knew something was going on between Alm and this person. They did not need to ask any further.

The only reason why Kiran was hesitant to send out Alm was because of how sensitive the latter became at the mention of Berkut’s name. What more if he does finally get to see that person in the flesh? Kiran could not bear seeing their allies hurt, whether physically, mentally, or emotionally. However, it is a sight they had no choice but to accept and get used to. They are in a war, after all. Hurt is inevitable. Death, all the more. A bloodless war is nothing but a sugarcoated dream to the foolish idealists.

Perhaps what is left of the idealist inside Kiran is the voice that keeps pushing them to do their best in conjuring up flawless tactics. Strategies so that accidents, damages, and casualties are avoided as much as possible. Having so much lives in the hand of one is a burden too heavy for one to carry and yet, fate chose Kiran to hold its weight on their shoulders. If an ally sustains any injury, it will be the tactician’s responsibility. And so, every single night, with almost no minute to spare for rest, Kiran chooses to engage in books to learn how proper battle strategy. They also consulted with Robin, a more inveterate tactician, at times.

Yet, the pain Alm seemed to felt was something they could not feel but think of as a puzzling case. Kiran only studied strategies on how to skillfully attack almost without receiving damage. Alm’s pain was something Kiran did not know how to prevent or rather, they did not know if it was something that could have been prevented at any cost. Could it be alleviated, however, is the question that seemed to have a good plausible answer.

These are the times when Kiran sees their allies more as people. That is not to say that the summoner has never seen them as humans. It was more like an interesting side to them that they seem like normal people instead of legendary heroes and elegant royals. Instead of the seemingly flawless façade they take up on during battles, as their tactician, Kiran sees how vulnerable and weak they can be at times. In battle, Kiran tries their best to align their tactics with their weaknesses so that these could not be exploited by their enemies. Behind the scenes however, Kiran could not find any strategies to prevent the hurt experienced by their friends. They hope that just being there for them would suffice.


	4. Now By Your Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally meet! But there's some twist to it...

By the time Alm was close enough to make out Berkut’s figure, his chest began to tighten. There, Berkut sat on top of his steed, patiently standing by for the opposing team’s attacks. It was just like that one time in the forest crossroads once again when they first met. The setting and atmosphere were exactly replicated, as if the very scene had been scooped out of Alm’s memory. Despite being akin to a memory, a dream, or no more than a mere illusion, this was very much real. Alm could feel his heart rapidly beating in his chest, as if it were to jump out of his throat at any moment. It was a different kind of feeling from when he last found himself in a similar situation, two years ago in the forest crossroads. Alm’s grip on his bow was wavering and trembling, as if he could let go of it any moment. Then, he suddenly remembered what Kiran told him before they headed off into the battlefield.

“Alright Alm, since there is no helping you, I am allowing you to participate in the team.” They reluctantly said.

“Oh, thank you very much!” Alm’s tears were still flowing down his cheeks as he immediately locked Kiran into a tight hug.

“I-it’s no problem,” Kiran said, struggling for air. “Just promise me one thing.”

“What would that be?” Alm slowly pulled away.

“Please make sure that you will be fine. You won’t get your emotions way ahead of you at least until the battle is over. Can you promise me that?”

Alm clenched his heart, trying to hold in the spontaneous explosion of emotions in his chest.

“Yes,” he finally answered. Alm was confident that he could manage to compose himself. After all, that is what he was supposed to be good at. Especially now that he has a crown on his head and he has to face throngs of people awaiting at the abode of his castle more often than he is comfortable with it. For a moment, he would forcible remove hurt, anxiety, and fear from his vocabulary. Now, he is about to do the same. It would be alright, he assures himself. He should be used to this already.

“Great! Now wipe your tears,” Kiran handed him a handkerchief. “We have a Grand Hero Battle to win.”

In that reminiscing moment, Alm steeled his grip around his bow. “I can do this,” he mumbled to himself, slapping his cheeks with his empty hand. It turned out pretty loud.

“Are you alright?” Lucina asked.

“I’m fine.” Alm reassured her. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Okay. Then we’ll go as planned. I’ll clear a path for you.”

Alm nodded as they headed out into the field, watchfully anticipating the enemy’s movement. Lucina made sure that Alm would go nowhere, not even a step in front of her since he is a ranged fighter who could not counterattack in case attacked with a melee weapon other than a bow. He is not Prince Takumi, after all, with the skill to counterattack at any range.

As Lene and Nanna effortlessly took down the bow knight, axe cavalier, and red mage in the northern side of the map, Lucina stayed with Alm on the opposite side. She kept him close, at a distance where she could clearly see him. Right after Lucina viciously cut down the green mage in one powerful strike, _he_ appeared so suddenly, as if he was conjured out of thin air. It was the final enemy. Berkut stood there, his lips forming a malicious smirk as he glanced at Lucina, who was disheveled from the green mage’s attack. It would only take a turn before he could end the battle.

Kiran reminded them that it would only take one fallen unit from the summoner’s team for them to lose. Lucina cursed under her breath. She knew that Berkut had an edge over her for it was a lance that he wielded. She has used up her turn as well and Lene, their team’s dancer, is almost out of sight. Lucina despised the idea that she would be the reason for their loss. Even though there is a chance that Berkut could not defeat her in one blow and she would have a chance to attack, Lucina knew it was futile. Yet, she could not move away from Alm. Her father did not raise her to be a deserter. So, she stood her ground.

However, Lucina forgot about one thing. Not everyone has finished their turn yet. Behind Lucina was Alm tightly gripping the Luna Arc with one hand. His form was perfect, his posture was poised just the way Selena had taught him. His eyes, free of hesitation, were focused on Berkut.

Alm could not believe he was doing this again. He could have tricked people with his eyes but his heart could not lie to him. He had to relive a nightmare so that it could stop haunting him once and for all. It would be only one shot and after that, Alm would swear that he would never lay a finger to harm Berkut ever again. It will all be over soon. From now on, the promise of a new beginning would be fulfilled.

“It’s the end,” He muttered, releasing an arrow after another from the bow, at an impeccable speed. It was so fast that Lucina’s eyes almost failed to catch up on what was going on. The next thing she saw was Berkut falling off his horse, and onto the ground, barely holding on to consciousness. With that, the battle was concluded.

Alm instantly rushed to Berkut’s side, his expression suddenly changing in nature. It was as if a switch inside of him was instantly flipped. All his teammates, along with Kiran, followed suit. Nanna, their troubadour, got down from her horse.

“Please leave it to me.” She assured Alm. Nanna held her staff over Berkut and began chanting incantations. A soft calming glow enveloped the man’s body as the wound started to fade. Alm held on to his hand. It was filled with warmth. It felt alive.

Berkut’s eyes started to flutter open. Despite being only conscious enough to make out five figures before him, he began to speak.

“Where am I? Who a—”

“You’re alive!” Alm exclaimed, latching onto his cousin and pulling him into a tight embrace.

“W-who are—get off me!” Berkut shoved him off.

“You… Y-you don’t know me?” Alm gasped. “It’s me, Alm! Y-your—” His tone grew more desperate. The look on Berkut’s eyes were not as hostile as they looked puzzled. Then the epiphany hit Alm. Their meeting in the forest crossroads was their first. Berkut could not have possibly known him. The only reason why Alm knows Berkut now is because he is from the future. Alm did not know how to react.

This was it. A new beginning. Literally from scratch.

***

As much as it was a struggle trying to convince the hardheaded Berkut to come with them to the castle, it was very much worth it. To Alm, at least. The way things progressed was very fast paced. Just this morning, Alm came up to Kiran to ask them a favor. They went to the battlefield to recruit a hero who turned out to be Berkut. And this afternoon, as Alm rests on his bed, there he is. Berkut in the flesh. In the Askran castle. In the same space as Alm.

It was a lot to absorb for Alm. Yet, he could not deny one thing from all of this. He is overjoyed. Though, he does not know what he should do. How he should approach his cousin. Well, it seemed like a one-sided relationship since Berkut does not know that Alm is his cousin. And how did he react the last time he found out the truth? He did go insane and berserk. Definitely not a good idea. Alm then crossed it out from his head. It may be better not to tell Berkut the truth. YET, at least.

A new beginning. Just like what those white daisies that grow in his bedroom window represent. This was what he wanted, was it not? But now, after that sudden death grip hug he gave Berkut, Alm was sure that he gave off another bad first impression. It seems that no matter what timeline or universe, Berkut is destined to have a sour impression on Alm. At least it was better than the two of them trying to kill each other in the battlefield. For a first meeting, this sure went better than the last. He just has to grab every opportunity once they come.

All of a sudden, as if putting Alm’s train of thought to a stop, a knock on the door.

“Alm?” Lucina’s voice called out from the other side of the door. “It’s me, Lucina. Is now a good time?”

Alm quickly got up from his bed and tried to fix his bed hair. He walked up to the door and opened it. Lucina was carrying two cheesy sandwiches that was left from the batch Flora prepared during lunchtime.

“How are you feeling?” She said, handing him a sandwich.

“Oh, thank you.” He took a bite out of the sandwich. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? I didn’t mean to pry but earlier, you just seemed…” she paused, sitting on the side of the bed. “Very troubled.”

“Is that how it looked like? I was sure no one would notice.”

“It would have been a good disguise only if I did not recognize it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I do it, too. Exactly as how you would.”

“You’ve caught me.” He halfheartedly laughed. “I guess we’re not so different from each other, after all. We’re both leaders who need to suck up our emotions for the better good.”

“You’re right but us being similar?” Lucina said. “I still have a lot more to learn!” She laughed.

“Same as me.” Alm said, laughing as well until it all dissolved in the quiet afternoon air.

The serious gaze on Lucina’s face returned. “That hero we fought earlier…”

Alm gulped.

“He’s someone important to you, isn’t he?”

“Someone important?” he glanced at the floor, avoiding Lucina’s ocean blue eyes.

“Or am I wrong? S-sorry if I was too assuming or anything like that! I just…” She apologized.

“He’s my cousin,” Alm admitted. “But to him, I’m—it’s complicated. I could only hope that he feels the same.”

“But why is it that he does not know you earlier?”

“He did not know that time,” Alm said, the pain was visible in his voice. “The battle was a rewind of our first encounter so he did not know me. Nor the fact that we are related by blood. I didn’t know about it, too.”

“That sounds rough.” Lucina patted his back. “But how is your relationship now? Does he know now, too?”

“In my time,” Alm swallowed his tears. “Berkut died before we even made up. That’s why now, I want to…”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry,” Lucina said. “I did not know. I’m sorry if I forced you to talk about it.”

“No, don’t be,” Alm told her. “It actually feels better talking about it like this. You see, I want to be friends with him this time around. To be a family with him. Though I feel like I’ve messed that up a little with that stunt earlier.”

“Well they do say that first impressions last. But isn’t that a reason for you to work harder? I’m sure you can do it!” Lucina said, making motivational gestures.

“Heh, you’re right.” Alm laughed. “One day, Berkut and I will be good friends. And once the right time comes, family.”

“That’s right! Always have hope!” Lucina beamed.

“Thank you, Lucina.” Alm said. “Thank you for listening to me. For earlier, too, in the battlefield when we were already cornered.”

“Well, what are friends for?” Lucina said, getting up. “I’m glad you look like you’re really feeling better already.”

“You’re already going?”

“Yes. I just remembered that I have to accompany Sev—I mean Selena in her shopping today.”

“I’m rooting for you two!” Alm cheered.

“Thank you!” Lucina said, laughingly as she exited the room.

Alm, now rekindled with motivation, lied down on his bed once again. Lucina was right. He has to work extra harder. So that he can start anew and finally be a family with Berkut. And then, maybe when Berkut returns to Valentia, he and Alm could be friends. From what seemed like an impossible miracle, it neared itself to Alm. Once opportunity knocks on the door, he will surely welcome it with open arms.

And there it was again. A knock. A literal knock on his door.

“Yes?” he called out.

“Alm, it’s me Kiran. I have a favor to ask of you.” Kiran answered back.

Alm got up once again and opened the door. He was greeted by Kiran and a much taller man. It was Berkut. Alm felt his heart race in his chest once more. Mila pray for him, he was not prepared.

“I know it’s sudden but I have to go attend to the Aether Raids right now. Could you be bothered to give Berkut a tour of the castle?”

“Him? The insolent creep earlier who…” Berkut shuddered.

“I’ll do it!” Alm cheerfully answered. Opportunity did come to knock at the door as soon as Alm wished for it. And as he promised, Alm will warmly welcome it with open arms and never let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Alm, finally! Next few chapters may contain more fluff bc it's what we deserve


	5. So Let's Get Along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Berkut would listen to Alm under one condition...

“I am Alm. I’m glad to meet you, Berkut. Well then, we are comrades now so let’s get along, shall we?” Alm said in a welcoming tone. “I shall then be guiding you to the training tower.”

“Wait a second. Remind me again why I am forcibly put under your care?” Berkut quipped.

“Kiran said they’ll be running some errands in the Aether Raids so th—”

“Oh, nevermind that. I was asking myself, not you.” Berkut said. “I suppose as imprudent you were earlier, you already know me?”

Alm gulped. Damn this recklessness, he thought. If only he made a better impression, things would go very swimmingly now.

“No, I don’t know you. I was just relieved that you were alright. I apologize for my improper behavior.” Alm lied. In the first half at least. He was not lying when he said that he was relieved that Berkut was fine.

“You’re a peculiar one. One does not simply embrace someone just because they are relieved for that person’s safety. Especially in your case. Since apparently, I’m a stranger to you.”

“You just,” Alm shortly paused. “Remind me of someone important to me.” Another lie. Berkut does not remind Alm of someone special to him—Berkut IS someone special to Alm. Yet, the latter knew he has to live with tons of lies just to make this relationship work for the both of them.

“Come again?”

“No, it’s nothing. Let’s just continue with the tour, shall we?”

“Hmph,” Berkut scoffed. “Do as you please.”

“Then we shall visit the training tower first!” Alm’s enthusiastic beam returned to his voice. This may be once again off to a fairly rough start but at least, it has a way better chance of ending up well. At least, unlike two years ago, Berkut’s first impression on Alm this time was just that of an eccentric yet harmless comrade. Well, comrade would be a little farfetched for now. They have not been in battle yet, after all. Just the thought of engaging in a battle alongside Berkut was enough to make Alm feel a thrill in his heart. Fighting together as a family—what a sweet fantasy almost come true.

Come to think of it, Alm thought as they entered the tower. Berkut still does not have any experience fighting in Askr. Maybe he would ask Kiran to let him accompany Berkut in the Training Tower. For backup support, at least. It could probably make a nice family bonding moment or something of the like.

“Kiran sends us here in groups of four so we could hone our skills for battle and strategy,” Alm said.

“There are many people,” Berkut commented. “But I want to spar the remarkable lot worthy of my time.”

“I see. Then I’ll accompany you next time!”

“Accompany me? You really are obsessed with me, aren’t you?”

“I just want to be friends with you,”

“Hm, whatever. As if I’d fraternize with an unrefined man such as you.” Berkut spat.

“Aw, don’t be like that!” Alm grabbed Berkut’s arm. “Let’s go to the Coliseum so we would have time to go to my favorite place here!”

“Wha—! Don’t just grab me!”

“I’m sure you’ll like it there, too.” Alm confidently announced.

It was a drag, Alm could not deny. It was difficult to keep it together when you lead such a hardheaded man like Berkut around the palace. He is like a little kid who does not trust Alm one but. Well, that could have been traced to Alm’s fault, in all honesty he could not refute. If only he acted “proper”, things would have gone more smoothly and Berkut could have been genuinely considering his offer of friendship. No way he would let this slide. This is a chance rarer than once in a lifetime. It is basically a miracle!

Alm was also sure that Berkut would definitely love the place in the castle he holds dear in his heart—the garden. Since the Rigel Berkut grew up and died with was almost devoid of all life and was basked in harshness, this ought to be a very refreshing sight for him. For it was full of life and beauty that was bereft of the barren land of Rigel. It could be something that Berkut could appreciate.

Right after he and Berkut visited the hot springs in the Aether Resort, Alm excitedly led Berkut to the garden. The sun kissed sky is now merging with the darker hues of the night sky. However, the moonlight still sheds an elegant light on the flowers at night so it would retain its splendor. The moonflowers, especially, that are not easily noticeable at day, shine marvelously under the moonlight’s grace. The garden truly is a place of beauty through and through.

“What are you getting so frenzied about?” Berkut asked, lagging behind the shorter man.

“This,” Alm declared. “Is my favorite spot!”

“It’s…” Berkut’s pause aligned with the slightly shocked look on his face as he looked around. There was also a distinctive glint in his eyes. As if he were marveling at the beauty of the place. Even without a smile forming on his lips, Alm could tell that Berkut was delighted. “A garden.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Enchanting,” he mumbled.

“I told you so!” Alm beamed.

“What?” Berkut’s cheeks lightly flushed. “I just said it was fine.”

“Sure you did,” Alm teased. “I’m glad you liked it. Or was than an understatement?”

“Where I’m from,” Berkut said. “This is an uncommon sight.”

“Oh?”

“Thriving life means pure strength and will in such a place. I take pride in the fact that I came out strong from such a grueling process of survival. Yet here, survival is no challenge, save for the war. How an idealistic place.” A small grin on Berkut’s lips was formed. It was neither out of joy nor mockery. Berkut’s deep obsidian eyes were staring off into the distance, as if he were seeking something far beyond his reach. Into his memory, where only sentimentality shall get him to where he so desires.

“Berkut, you…”

“Pay no heed what I said.” Berkut winced. “It’s your fault that I became a little nostalgic.”

“Oh, I apo—”

“But you know, this isn’t that awful.”

“Huh?”

“I said I’m exhausted,” Berkut imposed. “You’ve worn me enough. I shall now be heading back to my quarters.”

Alm could have sworn that there was something off about Berkut that time. It was the second time he saw Berkut happy and yet, it rubs him the wrong way. Probably because the first time Alm saw his cousin smile genuinely was when he was in his dying moments. His smile just a while ago was not too different from that of the last time he did. When Berkut smiles, there was always a reflection of nostalgia in his eyes. Alm hoped that one day, he would bring out a smile from Berkut that will emerge from the depths of a joyous heart. He would like to see it. Or rather, he would like to be reason for such.

“Sure that you can find your way back?” Alm called out to Berkut, who was already moving away from him at a trying speed.

“What in the heavens do you take me for? An infant?” Berkut protested.

“Ha ha! I’ll be seeing you at the mess hall, then!”

Berkut did not reply, instead only walked more hurriedly. It was a long day that took the form of a whirlwind that somehow managed to knock Alm off his feet and land him back safely onto the ground. It felt like weeks but the time he spent walking around the castle with Berkut felt like a second. So abrupt that it left him even more excited.

***

Mornings in the mess hall never failed to inflict claustrophobia on someone new to the place. Even though it was just the wee hours of the morning, one could expect it to be bursting with heroes with empty stomachs. It is a widely used rule among heroes that it is important to discipline one’s self by waking up early to train. Before training however, a good meal should provide enough energy to work more productively and efficiently. Alm is no exception to this rule.

Donning his usual turtleneck sweater to shield his skin from the chilly morning, he groggily walks over to the mess hall. Upon his arrival, he could make out the winding queue coiling around the tables and chairs. Despite the room being rather enormous, a line of hundreds of heroes is bound to make it look cramped.

Alm scoots over to the end of the line, deeply sighing. It could be a while before he would get his hands on some breakfast this morning. As he advanced in the line, he accidentally bumped his thigh against a wooden table, causing it to slide a little.

“Ah, my apologies,” Alm instinctively said.

“Care watch where you’re going?” The man sitting at the table, eating breakfast said. Wait a second, Alm thought. The condescending tone in the man’s voice was awfully familiar. Alm took a glance at the man out of curiosity. His eyes widened, as if he had been jolted awake by the most powerful caffeinated substance.

“Berkut?” his voice was so loud it was almost like he yelled.

“You again?” Berkut cringed. “You truly have a knack for crossing my path, don’t you?”

“You’re sitting alone?” Alm ignored Berkut. “Wait for me, then. I’ll join you once I’m done!” There was an elated beam in Alm’s voice.

Before Berkut could even react, Alm already advanced in line, leaping with joy. It had not actually been a full day ever since Berkut arrived at the Kingdom of Askr. Yet, this green-haired stranger seemed to have been tugging at his strings all the time. He looked so excited when he even chances upon Berkut. Not to mention, that embrace the first time the two of them met. Berkut found it hard to believe that this was the first time Alm met him, if Alm did not have a hidden agenda.

It could a case worth looking into, Berkut thought to himself.

Catching himself in a daze, he resumes eating the seafood rice soup that the blue haired maid served him for breakfast, seeing that it was slowly getting cold. It was nothing like the food he ate at home, since it was his first time tasting rice.

Right after Berkut had finished his bowl, a loud thump landed itself against the table. Not to his surprise anymore, it is the same enthusiastic boy just a while ago.

“I came here as fast as I got my bowl,” Alm said, sitting himself on the chair. “Thank you for saving the seat for me.”

“I was taking some time off before heading off to train,” Berkut made an excuse. “Don’t dare think that I did it for you.”

“Oh, you’re done eating already?” Alm said, paying no heed to his cousin again. “Here, you can have some of my mushrooms if you’re still hungry.” Alm scooped up some chopped mushrooms along with a bit of broth and handed it out to Berkut. The latter did not refuse the gesture so Alm just dumped the spoonful onto Berkut’s bowl.

“Why are you being so sickeningly generous to me?” Berkut asked.

“I told you yesterday, right? I want to be your friend.”

“Certainly not flattering coming from you,” he said. “But I can’t blame you. Everyone desires to establish a camaraderie with me for the sake of good image.” There was a wry smile on Berkut’s face, mocking Alm’s good intentions. At the same time, there was an unusual pitch to his voice, covering a hidden sensation of hurt. It pained Alm, just looking at this.

“It’s not like that at all! I—” Alm protested after gulping down his spoonful but Berkut cut him off.

“That is the only plausible explanation on why a complete stranger would be interested in pursuing a friendship with me.” Berkut paused. “Unless… don’t tell me, you’ve fallen for me upon first sight?”

Alm almost choked on his rice on Berkut’s last sentence. He is NOT into incestuous endeavors, nor does he condone the act. Just the thought of it is enough to make Alm’s stomach sick. Also, for his pure intentions to be unjustly made light of… He could not help feeling even just a bit offended. He could not also blame Berkut for that, however. Alm knew that his cousin has gone through a lot of trickery and deception from many nobles who were desperately climbing up the social ladder for their own selfish gains. Berkut, at a young age, must have been used to that.

“I already have a lover, though.” Berkut continued. “So, what is it?”

“N-none of that!” Alm said, coughing up his soup. His face was red with embarrassment. “Look, I just want to be friends with you. Nothing greater nor less.” Alm lied. He did want to be a family, which he would mean by “more”. If he said so, however, Berkut would just think that he is in love (despite his strong objection) and it would further complicate things.

Berkut scooped up the mushroom Alm left on his bowl and ate it up. There was nothing but silence between the two of them. Berkut lifted his head from his bowl after a moment of what seemed like a deliberation.

“Then,” he began. “I shall see whether you are deserving of my attention.”

“What do you mean?”

“It is a tested process in my homeland,” Berkut said. “The two of us will spar. If I emerge victorious, you’ll do anything I order you to. If you win, which is highly improbable, since I have never lost to anyone except my uncle, I’ll listen to you.”

“I’ll do it,” Alm said, with a resolute gaze in his eyes. He has defeated Berkut before, he could do it again, especially now that he is doing it for the sake of saving their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uwaaa thank you for the comments, kudos, and 500+ hits! Y'all make me very happy <3  
> Things will move a little faster starting from here, too so buckle up ehehe


	6. What He Is Like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Berkut finally gives in but under another condition that Alm willingly accepts.

The apparent sharp edge of the wooden sword firmly point a few centimeters away from Berkut’s throat, his exasperated breathing grazing against the unrefined surface. His wooden lance had flown away to the other side of the room right after Alm violently knocked it off his right hand with a strike. Berkut could not believe it. He was bested in a fight by someone other than his father or instructors. His cheeks flushed red in embarrassment.

“This is utter humiliation,” Berkut muttered under his breath. Before he could take another breath, his heart would run what seemed a thousand more steps.

In contrast to Berkut’s exhausted state, Alm barely broke a sweat as he held the hilt of his sword, pointing the wooden edge at his cousin’s bare neck. If the Alm from back then was the one who faced Berkut now, he would undoubtedly have a hard time to himself since he and Berkut were neck and neck in skills. However, that was not the case. Alm now has two additional years of edge over Berkut.

Just a few moments ago, Alm’s eyes looked like those of a mere demanding puppy who liked following Berkut around. A lot could change within a given span of time, no doubt for as Alm intercepted and countered Berkut’s swings and slashes, his eyes were that of a fierce wolf. He transforms into a completely different person during combat that Berkut actually felt threatened by the make believe killing intent emanating from this strange boy.

There is something peculiar about this boy’s gaze, Berkut thought. Where has he seen it before? It was just at the edge of his memory, clinging on yet he could not get ahold of.

Alm sharply drew the wooden sword back.

“I won fair and square, now—” The boyish charm held by Alm’s voice lightened up the atmosphere of the training room.

“I know. Do you take me for an oaf?” Berkut snapped. “Tell me what it is you want.”

“I told you. I want you to forget about all this and become friends with me.” Alm said.

Berkut winced. He may be against this strange man’s proposition but it is also against his moral compass to go against a deal or break a promise once made. He hesitated for a moment just to think about how things were pacing rather instantaneously. Just yesterday, he arrived at this strange new world, where this broccoli haired boy pulled him into a tight embrace all of a sudden. Then, he suddenly wants to be his friend purely out of the goodness of his heart. Surprisingly, too, this boy is undeniably skilled in the art of combat, for Berkut to be defeated in a matter of a few swings. Come to think of it, the style he used was familiar. Berkut felt like he has seen something like it a way back. It was strange how it gave him a feeling of nostalgia.

This was the second time Alm made him feel that. It put him off and yet, Berkut could not help feeling interested.

In Rigel, strength is a widely used basis for measuring one’s worth and the power that person can take hold of. Notably, display of strength is also how one could earn respect. Alm could be worth this prince’s time, after all.

“Your lack of refinery is unmistakable,” Berkut spoke. “Yet, I find your strength in combat…”

“You don’t have to say it,” Alm said. “I just want to hear my answer.”

“Fine,” the other man conceded. “I shall make an effort to establish a camaraderie with you.”

“You certainly won’t regret it,” Alm reached out a hand to his cousin. “Thank you.”

“Though I’ll require a condition.”

“Another condition? Didn’t our deal say—”

“Be my combat instructor,” Berkut said, ignoring Alm. It would be unfair on his side if it were only Alm who would benefit from this. He, too, should have something in it for him. It is what he deserves, after suffering a shameful defeat at the hands of just someone. Well, now that person in not just someone. He is the man who defeated the crown prince of Rigel. It would only be right to cultivate this defeat into something good for him.

“Wait. Hold on, I don’t follow.”

“The last time I checked, you weren’t deaf.” Berkut spat.

“Huh? Me? Teach you? Did I hear it correctly?” Alm gestured to himself then to his cousin.

“That’s right, slowpoke. How hard is it to comprehend?”

“That means we’re going to spend more time together, right? I’ll be with you every step of the way!”

“Don’t catch onto bizarre thoughts!” Berkut protested. “It is just so that I could beat you one day.”

“I’ll be glad to! Well, we could start now, right?” Alm said with much ecstasy. “To the training tower?”

“I’m glad you’re finally keeping up with me.”

***

“Mind if I bother you with a question, Berkut?” Alm said between munches of the delectable fruit rollup Flora prepared for snacks.

“First, don’t run off your mouth while it’s full. You best learn some basic ethics before even assuming that we could be compatible.”

“Ow,” Alm now hastily chewed his food before he spoke. But his cousin cut him off just when he was about to open his mouth to speak.

“Now tell me what you want to know,”

“You’re awfully skilled in battle,” Alm began. “Yet you appear young.”

“You’re one to talk,” Berkut spat. “You barely look the part of an adult man and you still managed to sweep me off my feet.”

“Some do tell me that I look young for my age,” Alm said laughingly. “But you see, this is not really what I wanted to ask you.”

“Hm?”

“Who taught you how to fight? What are they like?”

Berkut paused. He just stared, as if he was confused as to why Alm would ask him about that.

“You know, so I’d know what style of teaching you’re comfortable with,” Alm reasoned. “Since I promised that I would be your instructor.”

“My uncle taught me the art of combat,” Berkut answered. “Despite your strength, not even you could compare to his splendor in battle.”

“He must be really great, then.”

“Great is an understatement,” Berkut refuted. “He is the emperor of my homeland, for one. I am aware that there are fools who wear a status of nobility and have the audacity to feel respectable. But with uncle, it’s very different. One look and you’d tell him different from the rest. He looked the part of what he is or even greater. He is the epitome of strength—the law. Everything I aspire to be.”

Alm knew that Berkut respects his father. Berkut wanted to be like Rudolf. The face of power in Rigel, if not Duma. However, in the end, Berkut failed to be like his uncle. His reliance on faith he so despises completely turned on him and utterly consumed him as he wallowed in the darkness of his heart.

“That sure sounds like a lot to live up to,” Alm said, unaware of the teardrop skidding down his cheek.

Not only Berkut was the victim to Rudolf’s legacy. So was Alm. However, if Berkut wanted to be exactly like his uncle, Alm on the other hand, wanted to be an emperor more compassionate than his father ever was. He would want his people to be nourished both with kindness and strength. That is his vision for Valentia. What his father failed at.

“Precisely why I, at every opportunity, would like to unceasingly foster my knowledge and strength,” Berkut said. “Why I require your assistance.”

“I see,” Alm nodded. “If you’ll have me, then I’ll be more than glad to lend myself to you.”

“Wait. Are you crying?”

“What? No I—” Alm finally noticed. “Oh, sorry.” The thought of Rudolf may have gotten ahold of his emotions. Alm got even more curious how this man is as a father. If he was more of a role model than a father figure to Berkut, does that mean that he had truly succeeded as a parent? But one thing was for sure.

Rudolf brought up a man who found power only in strength. Where is unconditional kindness? If Alm could not find it, he promises to himself that he would be the one to bring it to Berkut’s light. It could save him one day.

“You really are an eccentric one, no doubt.” Berkut laughed. “I swear I’ll figure you out one day.”

Alm laughed, too. If Berkut found him out, he would be doomed. As long as Alm keeps lying his way out of trouble, it will turn out just fine. Their relationship would be saved and Berkut would not need to suffer the same fate Alm witnessed. At least, this way, they could be friends. Family, even. It may all be built through lies but he could swear that his feelings of love and longing for family are as genuine as the sky is blue.

“What about you?” Berkut returned the question. “How was yours like? That person must have been masterful as well.”

“My grandpa taught me,” Alm casually replied. “He may be old but he proves that he can still be as spry as a hawk.”

“Your grandfather? You did not have anyone else to learn from? Like your father?”

“No, not really.” Yes, Alm thought. Because he was too busy with you at that time.

“So you’re an orphaned child?”

“My father was,” Alm swallowed. How could he explain it?

How hard is it to say ‘He was your uncle’? Easier to say than suffering the dire consequences.

_Orphan._

That is who he believed he was all his life until he really became one. Berkut’s uncle. His father whom he took the life of with his own two hands. Now he is but back then, when he did not know the truth, he was not. There was a stinging pain in his mind as he tried to answer. Alm never had a father, as far as he was concerned.

“Y-you’re being quite intrusive, you know that?” Alm stammered, averting his gaze from his cousin. He squeezed out a pitiful laugh in an attempt to make it sound but a jest.

“I believe that I was simply being fair,” Berkut reasoned. “You were invasive of my privacy as well, when we have only met.”

“I apologize,” Alm said. “I’m feeling a little lightheaded.” He got up from the bench.

“Where are you going?” There was an observant look in Berkut’s eyes. As if he was suspecting something.

“I’ll be going back to my room,” Alm faked a smile as he painfully forced himself to glance at Berkut. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow in the training room after breakfast.”

Before Berkut could even retort or say anything, Alm had hastily skittered away to his room. It was as if Alm purposefully avoided him. No, not just “as if”. Berkut was not daft. He knew that for a moment there, this strange boy showed a vulnerable side to him. It only piqued Berkut’s interest even more.

Just who is this boy? Strangely outgoing yet is a closed book himself. To Berkut, at least. If that really is the case, then why? What could be the reason behind his strange behavior? And how could Berkut feel an irking sense of nostalgia whenever he looks at Alm? Familiar yet so far away. Like a memory adrift from the mind.

For now, Berkut could not say anything for certain other than the fact that this Alm is an oddball. Not necessarily threatening, as far as he has observed. Berkut thinks that Alm seemed too simple-minded to be scheming. Yet, he has to be on the watch for whatever may occur.

And he has the whole duration of his stay in Askr to figure this eccentric boy out.


End file.
